Page 99 of Game Plan

Travis:I’ve never heard that song described as romantic.

C Ya:Then you’ve been hanging out with the wrong people.

Travis:Right on that one. Time to narrow down your location, Miss Ya-something.

A little narrowing couldn’t be all that dangerous, right?

C Ya:Between Toronto and London. And what makes you think I’m a miss, not a missus…or a mister?

Travis:I read your profile before I accepted the game.

Head, meet desk. If she were at a desk.

Another message from Travis popped up.

Travis:Promise me we’ll talk again. Soon.

Could he be asking for more contact than an online Scrabble chat window? No, that was a desperate and ridiculous wish, and one she’d never be able to handle if it materialized in front of her, wrapped in pretty paper with a bow on top. At least he wanted to dothisagain. That was all she needed. Really.

C Ya:You know how to find me.

She rubbed her palms against her pajamas. Too desperate-sounding? Too indifferent? Ugh, this is why she didn’t date. Well…one of the lesser reasons, but still. Too stressful.

Travis:And I will. Have a great night, C. I’ll be thinking about you when we play that song.

Then he was gone. For tonight, at least. Tons of open games waited on the site’s homepage, but she wasn’t into it anymore. Somewhere out there was a brown-haired guitarist who, in ninety minutes and total anonymity, had made her heart race.

Travis might be that ordinary-looking guy nobody gives a second glance. He might be the ugly guy everybody stares at because they can’t look away. Whatever his appearance, she was into him. Totally, anonymously into him.

…

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